


Carol Stream

by pturple_ptatoe



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:00:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23831227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pturple_ptatoe/pseuds/pturple_ptatoe
Summary: A little adventure with the Tenth Doctor.





	Carol Stream

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. I wrote this when I was 13 lol. Not particularly profound, but it's a fun read.  
> 2\. Carol Stream is a twist off of River Song, and yeah she's totally a mary sue

Carol has regretted many things that she has done in her life, but nothing more so than declining the offer to be the Doctor’s companion, or sidekick, as Carol thought of it. She knew she couldn’t and wouldn’t, and when the chance came, she had said no.  _ Yep, I’m a coward through and through, _ she thought dryly to herself. However, The Doctor said he  _ would _ see her again, but Carol was afraid to be too hopeful. Hope is definitely a weakness. But either way, Carol was done with chaos, journeys, excitement, and horror. She deserved some peace.

\- Day Before -

Carol sat on the first level of the double decker, heading home from work. Technically, she shouldn’t have been working today, since it was the Easter Holiday, but her career isn’t exactly a desk job.

“Hello, I’m the Doctor! Would you like some?” A young man, whose name was apparently ‘the Doctor’, offered Carol his half of a giant chocolate Easter egg, which was the size of his hand, and was partially covered in gold tin foil. The first thing that stood out was how skinny he looked in his tailored blue pinstripe suit with a tie and trench coat that went down to his ankles. The second thing was his hair, which was all ‘sticky-uppy’ with sideburns that went down to the bottom of his ears. Thirdly, he wore scruffy red Converse trainers. Or were they burgundy? they were High Tops, presumably.

“Thanks, but I don’t fancy chocolate,” Carol declined politely.

The Doctor shrugged and broke off a moderate chunk and put it in his mouth. “It’s your loss,” The Doctor said with his mouth full. He swung around to sit next to her.

“I’m Carol Stream, by the way,” she said, as it was the polite thing to do. “And hang on, did you say your name was ‘the Doctor’? My co-workers talk quite a lot about you. Especially Jack Harkness.”

“Oh, you know Jack?” he said, surprised. “I don’t suppose you work for Torchwood?” The Torchwood Institute was an organization founded to protect the British Empire from extraterrestrial threat.

“The very one. You know, I was the one who found your hand. Did you get it back?” The Doctor had lost his hand from a sword fight with the Sycorax leader a few years ago, but since it was within a few hours of his regeneration cycle, he had managed to grow a new one.

“Oh yeah, yeah, I did. It became a meta-crisis version of me. And now …” he faltered, “well, it’s long and complicated and nonhuman.”

Carol smiled slightly. “Yeah, I’m not human either,” she said casually.

* * *

“So here it is. The TARDIS. Stands for Time And Relative Dimensions In Space.” The Doctor put his hands in his pocket, waiting for her response.

The TARDIS is a space-time capsule in which the Doctor can go absolutely anywhere, in any time, any era, any planet.

“Hmm, the color seems off,” she critiqued. “It’s too grayish and dull.” She pointed at the TARDIS door, under the right window. “And shouldn’t there be a Saint John’s symbol there?” Due to the Chameleon Circuit malfunctioning, the TARDIS is now stuck as an old, 1950’s era, blue British Police Box.

“Oi, I didn’t show you my TARDIS, just to have you say things that are wrong with it,” The Doctor replied impatiently. He unlocked the door and went inside, with Carol behind him.

Inside, the room was incredibly large. Its round walls were sectioned vertically, and light flooded the room from small circles in a strategic pattern. Curved columns supported the domed ceiling. In the middle, there was a circular control panel, which you could walk all the way around, and a cylindrical mechanism in the center that went to the top. Evidently, a room so large couldn’t possibly be the inside of a typical police box.

“Well, what do you think?” The Doctor asked, tossing his coat in the fork of two columns as he walked in. Carol turned around in a three-sixty, not looking impressed.

“Is that it? It seems a bit, I dunno, retro, or something.” Carol sounded genuinely disappointed. 

“What? No ‘it’s bigger on the inside’ bit? No walking in and out in disbelief?” The Doctor said, shocked, his voice going up in incredulity. “No ‘no way! That’s impossible!’ rant?”

“Oh yeah, I suppose it is smaller on the outside.” Carol sounded nonchalant and indifferent. “Um, can you fly this correctly?”

“What do you mean? Of course I can!” he said indignantly.

“Yeah, but did you officially pass the test?”

“Well, not exactly, but - but - I don’t have time for this! I just can, okay?”

“Prove it then, if you can,” Carol challenged. She smiled, probably hoping to see him fail. 

He puffed air out of his cheeks and rolled his eyes. “Fine.” 

The Doctor went to the control panel, turned meaningful levers, went to the other side, pushed buttons, and even used a mallet to hammer one of those service bells. The ground lurched under their feet. 

Suddenly, everything went pitch black.

* * *

Carol opened her eyes to see the Doctor and her on a lone beach. She dragged herself up from the ground, brushing wet sand off her trousers.

“What happened?” said Carol, looking around at her surroundings.

“I dunno,” The Doctor answered, looking around as well. “I think we’ve. . . landed on a beach.” He turned around. “Actually, I think I know where we are.”

“And where might that be?”

“Darlig Ulv Stranden, more commonly known as Bad Wolf Bay. I had a - well - friend, Rose Tyler. I dropped her off here in a parallel universe with the Meta-Crisis me.”

Carol wasn’t going to ask who Rose, or the Meta-Crisis Doctor were. “Darlig Ulv Stranden, huh? Isn’t that, what, Norwegian? Well, isn’t that brilliant: we’re in Norway, possibly in a parallel universe, and without the TARDIS. Do you have a - a time vortex manipulator or something?” A time vortex manipulator is another way of traveling through time and space, though it can easily cause time sickness, which is not a pleasant experience. 

“No,” The Doctor replied. “However, I know another way of getting out of here. Phone?” The Doctor held his hand out expectantly. 

Carol patted her pockets, until she found her cell phone. She gave it to him without question. The Doctor reached into his inside pocket of his suit, and produced his sonic screwdriver, a silver utensil, the size of a typical screwdriver, with a blue tip. He clicked through several different settings until he found the correct one, and pointed it at the phone. From the sonic screwdriver came a blue light and an electronic buzzing sound.

However, the phone did something unexpected. It crackled from practically visual static electricity. The Doctor dropped the phone as it shocked his hand. 

* * *

Carol opened her eyes to see that she was on the floor of the TARDIS. She got up and stood, stretching, as her limbs felt slightly stiff.

“I suppose it’s useless to ask what happened.” Carol said it like it was a statement, not a question.

The Doctor, who was already up, ignored her. He pulled the screen, which was connected to the control panel, closer to him, and pushed a few keys, looking disgruntled.

“What? This doesn’t make sense!” The Doctor complained, now going to the opposite side, switching several switches.

“What’s wrong?” Carol asked, looking over the Doctor’s shoulder, which was actually rather impressive, since The Doctor was at least six feet tall.

“There’s nothing!” The Doctor banged on the screen, upon which the moving circular symbols of the Gallifreyan language blinked and faltered. Then, the screen went blank. The Doctor ran his fingers through his already messy hair in frustration. “I can’t tell if the shields are up or not, or where we are, and for all I know, we could be in the middle of nowhere!”

Carol went over to the door to the outside, and opened it, to find herself looking at a blank, nondescript wall. It was as colorless and smooth as a huge piece of paper, and completely blocked the exit.

“Um.” Carol stared at the wall. “This doesn’t typically happen when you open the TARDIS door, does it?” Again, it was a rhetorical question that didn’t need answering. She closed the doors and went to the middle of the room, pried a panel of the floor off, and jumped through it.

“No, no, no! Stop it! What are you doing?” yelled The Doctor angrily.

“I’m -” Carol shifted boxes over and took hold of wires, “trying to fix something.” She apparently knew what she was doing, as she did complicated technical stuff that the average human couldn’t possibly attempt to do. “But it appears -” she lifted herself up to the main floor with agility and put the panel back, “the desktop theme needs to be upgraded for me to do anything useful.” She pulled down on a lever, pushed two buttons, adjusted the Zigzag Plotter to two, and grabbed a hold of The Doctor’s wrist. “Come on,” she said, pulling him away, despite his protests, “We can’t stay in the control room while it is upgrading. Let’s have a trip inside the heart of the TARDIS!”

* * *

Carol watched as her phone fell and cracked as it hit the sand-covered ground. Neither could deny it was broken. She looked around, surprised to see herself back at Bad Wolf Bay, without any recollection of getting there. She decided not to ask aloud about her confusion, as The Doctor wouldn’t know the answer either.

“So, what was the plan of getting out of here?” Carol sounded rather impatient.

The Doctor picked the phone up and pointed the sonic screwdriver at it. “There,” he said. “I fixed it enough for one phone call. Do you know someone that could pick us up in Norway?”

“Yeah, actually, I do.” The Doctor gave Carol the phone. She dialed a number and held the phone to her ear. “Oh hey. . . Yeah, well, I’ve been busy. . . No listen, you’re in Bergen with your granddad, right? . . . Oh, come on Donna!” The Doctor’s eyes flew up at the sound of Donna’s name.

“Who are you talking to?” The Doctor said frantically.

“Sorry, could you hold for a second? . . . Thanks.” Carol covered the speaker and said to the Doctor, “Donna Noble. I used to work with her at H.C. Clemens. We used to have fun complaining about her mother.”

The Doctor grabbed Carol’s wrist which held the phone. “You can’t,” he said quietly and fiercely. “Donna Noble can’t be called. The Meta-Crisis went two ways and she got the brain of a Time Lord. I had to wipe her mind because it was killing her. I can’t risk her seeing me. If she remembers, her mind will burn and she will die.”

“But you said the phone could only do one call!” Carol protested. She broke The Doctor’s grasp and brought the phone to her ear. Before she could start talking, The Doctor grabbed the phone and ended the call.

His eyes burned with fire and rage, and Carol didn’t object when he told her to start walking.

* * *

Carol was too absorbed in her thoughts to fully realize they changed places again. Now, the Doctor and she were walking in a metal-walled labyrinth within the TARDIS.

“You said you were a Time Lord,” Carol spoke aloud meekly, still remembering that look of anger when she rebelled against the Doctor’s instructions.

“Yeah,” The Doctor said curtly. Was it just her imagination, or did he sound as if he was about to cry?

“So, you remember Gallifrey,” she pressed on.

“And the Last Great Time War,” he said. “But tell me, you said you weren’t human, and you know of Gallifrey, so what are you?” He sounded a little more like his usual quizzical self.

“Oh,” Carol replied, deliberately trying to avoid answering. Gallifrey was the home planet of the Time Lords, and the Time War was the worst war of the entire universe. The Time Lords fought against a race called the Daleks, and neither side won. Everyone had lost and no one had survived. Well, almost nobody. “I fought in the Time War.” She was rather reluctant to continue. “And, well, I was there when the ‘Could-Have-Been-King and his army of Neverweres and Meanwhiles’ came.” She really didn’t want to explain what those creatures were.

“Hang on,” The Doctor interrupted her. “The Neverweres and the Meanwhiles came when the Time War was time locked. That’s impossible. You couldn’t have gotten out.”

Carol looked sad and miserable. “I got out when Dalek Caan went in,” she said. “We were - ”, her voice cracked. She cleared her throat. “We knew each other, back when he was Kaled.” Kaleds were a species of humanoids that lived on Skaro, before they mutated into the Dalek race. “And, he owed me. I guessed he remembered.” Now it was Carol’s turn to sound like she was on the verge of tears.

“I’m sorry.” The Doctor said softly.

Carol grimaced. “Well, we can’t change our past,” she replied curtly and continued to walk straight on.

“Wait! Hold up!” The Doctor caught up with her fast strides. “You said Dalek Caan went through the time lock,” he said seriously. He was practically walking backwards so he could talk face-to-face with her. “He couldn’t have. It’s physically impossible to go through a time lock.”

“I don’t know what happened,” Carol said exasperatedly. She was looking forward, trying to avoid the Doctor’s eye contact.

“But-but hang on!” The Doctor held his index fingers up, like he was calling for time. He had that excited gleam in his eyes, like when he figures the last piece of a puzzle out. “You said Caan was a Kaled once, yes? So, does that mean you are?”

“Yes,” Carl answered bluntly.

* * *

Suddenly, they were in Bad Wolf Bay again. Neither bothered to try to figure out this anomaly; they just assumed it was part of the inevitable.

“So, are you the last of your kind? Are there any others?” The Doctor asked, continuing on the conversation they just had.

“Um, yeah,” Carol answered, her voice sounding a bit stuffy. “Well, I mean, no more Kaleds. I’m sure there are still Daleks out there, somewhere. You can always count on them to survive,” she replied bitterly.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” The Doctor agreed with her.

They continued walking for a while in silence. However, it wasn’t the awkward kind, but rather peaceful. Nothing needed to be said, and the sound of waves were calming.

“Oh,” The Doctor and Carol said together. 

They had been going in a circle the whole time.

* * *

The two walked in silence in the TARDIS labyrinth. They found themselves looking at a pair of themselves, walking a different route.

“I can’t believe you hate pears,” the other Carol said, shaking her head. “Pears are great. Now bananas, on the other hand . . .”

“Oi! Bananas are  _ molto bene _ !” The Doctor argued back. “They’re a great source of potassium! You should always bring a banana to a party!” 

“To a party?” Carol asked condescendingly.

“Oh, yeah! Now what’s great with bananas…” and the other Carol and Doctor went out of earshot.

“That’s just time playing tricks on us,” The original Carol and Doctor replied in unison. Both looked at each other in surprise.

“Did you, er, go to the Academy?” The Doctor asked, changing the subject. Sometimes, Time Lords would allow other intelligent individuals from different home planets to become Gallifreyan citizens, if they passed the right test of etiquette.

“Nah,” Carol replied offhandedly. “Apparently, I didn’t fit the requirements. But, I did work as a TARDIS mechanic.” She then smiled. “In fact, it was my repair shop that you stole your TARDIS from.”

“Oh, really?” The Doctor sounded abashed.

They stopped suddenly. They were in the same exact passageway that they just passed.

* * * 

Carol could hear the waves lapping on the sand floor. The bottoms of her trousers were damp, and sand clung to them.

“What made you decide Earth?” The Doctor asked conversationally.

“I like Earth,” Carol said simply. “Humans are an amazing species, and better yet, the rain isn’t acid.” It was an inside joke, because Skaro’s precipitation was highly acidic and harmful.

“Yeah, it is, isn’t it?” The Doctor smiled, agreeing. “Is Carol Stream your actual name, or is it something you made up?”

“It’s a pen name.”

“What is it, then?”

“What is what?”

“Your real name.” The Doctor had a daring smile on his face. “Come on, it’s just you and me here on this beach. No one’s gonna hear you.”

Carol, too, had a mischievous grin, “I’ll only say my name if you tell me yours. Your real name,” Carol added, knowing he would say it’s ‘the Doctor’.

“Carol, I can’t say it,” The Doctor argued.

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” Carol agreed. “Alright, my name’s River Song.”

The Doctor looked at her with an expression Carol couldn’t possibly read. It was a combination of shock, sadness, and hopelessness.

“You’re - you’re River Song,” he stammered.

“What? You don’t like it?” Carol joked. Then she realized this was a serious matter. “What’s wrong?” Carol sounded concerned.

“It’s nothing,” he said unconvincingly. He looked away and cleared his throat. “And about my name, I suppose you deserve to know it,” he said, and told her it.

* * *

In the TARDIS, The Doctor and Carol took a right, left and then went straight, trying to get out of the continuous time loop circle.

Suddenly, Carol came to a halt without any warning. The Doctor, absorbed in his thoughts, bumped into her. “I. Am. An Idiot,” Carol said aloud. “I’m so thick. I need a bigger brain! How could I have not seen this before?” Obviously, Carol must have figured something out.

They turned a sharp right, to find themselves at the edge of an enormous canyon. It was impossible to see the bottom, due to its depth, as well as the white light coming from it that almost blinded them. 

“This must be…” Carol began.

“The time vortex,” The Doctor finished. “The same one that Rose looked into.” Again, Carol didn’t bother asking who this other woman was. “Well, we’re looking at it with a perception filter in place, so the effect won’t be the same on us as it was on her.” He paused for a second. “But Carol, what were you saying?”

“Oh, yes,” she said, looking away from the void. “See these two places that we keep appearing in, what’s happening now, and Bad Wolf Bay? Well, they’re a dream.”

The Doctor’s eyes widened with recognition, and understanding. “So the only way to get out of the dream…”

“Is to end it,” Carol finished his sentence. She looked at the vortex. “If we go into the Time Vortex unprotected, that’ll kill us, right? The time winds would rip us apart and we’d cease to exist?”

“Yeah…” The Doctor said slowly. “You’re not considering - ?”

“It’s the only way,” Carol said firmly.

The Doctor nodded, agreeing. They both reached out, holding hands, and looked at each other.

“You ready?” The Doctor asked. “On three. One...two...three!”

They both jumped into the canyon.

* * *

Carol opened her tightly closed eyes to see the two of them in the control room of the regular TARDIS. She saw The Doctor blowing granules of what appeared to be dust out of his hand, outside, into the crisp air.

“Psychic pollen!” The Doctor explained energetically. “Caused us to go into a dream state, which resulted in us making visions of obstacles that we needed to face. And, since we were in the same room with the same psychic pollen, we had the same dreams. I guess I left the shields down, and the pollen must have come through the vents.” The Doctor smiled happily, his eyes crinkling at the edges.

“You know,” Carol said, “I kind of wish the TARDIS could have been upgraded in the end, because frankly, I hate how it’s decorated. What is it? Coral themed?”

The Doctor chuckled, letting that insult pass.

“But anyways,” Carol continued, “I should go. It’s getting late. And,” she looked directly the Time Lord, “Thank you ... for letting me see your TARDIS.”

The Doctor’s cheerful demeanor started to crumble.

“You sure?” The Doctor asked, almost pleadingly, “We-we could go to so many places...like-like Barcelona! Now, not the city of Barcelona, but the planet. It’s wonderful! Or-or Vincent Van Gogh! I’ve always wanted to see him! Lovely fellow!”

Carol smiled sadly.

“Thanks, but I’m done with adventures,” she said.

The Doctor nodded, accepting what she said. “But, I  _ will  _ see you again,” he promised. “Oh - and, I wanted you to have this.” From his pocket, The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver.

Carol eyed it warily. “I couldn’t…,” she tried to decline, but The Doctor interrupted her.

“Please,” he said.

She looked at the screwdriver in his hand. “Alright,” she gave in, taking it. “And one last thing,” she remembered. “You told me your name. Time Lords never tell anyone their name. Why did you tell me?”

He gave her a piercing look.

“I think it’s time for you to leave,” he replied quietly.

Carol nodded, knowing, again, she went too far, and exited.

Once she was about ten feet away, she turned abruptly, hearing the sound of the TARDIS leaving. It was as high pitched as two pieces of metal grinding together, and as resonant as an engine being revved.

Carol smiled to herself.

The Doctor had left the brakes on.


End file.
